So thinking to himself one day, as he and the men under his command stood facing the enemy, waiting for the signal to advance, he was keeping his eyes upon the opposite ranks, when all at once he observed something that till now had escaped his notice.
"The enemy is remarkably weak in the left wing yonder," he reflected, "and there is a long marsh just in front; I don't think I should be afraid of being attacked from that quarter. If I were in command," he went on, "I would order one division to advance in that direction and outflank the enemy. This would throw him into confusion. Then I would send part of the cavalry forward, and while the enemy's attention was engaged by the sudden attack on his wing, I would fall upon his centre with my whole force."
"Really," the young officer said to himself, "I should like to tell His Highness what I think."
Michael scribbled something in pencil upon a scrap of paper, and sent one of the Black Knights off with it to the king, who was inspecting the ranks, and was now riding down the left wing of the army, surrounded by a brilliant staff, himself more simply attired than any of those about him.
The king read over the crooked lines with not a little astonishment, and for a moment his face flamed.
Then he cried out in lively tones, "Upon my word, advice is becoming from a twenty-years-old general! This man will be somebody one of these days."
Then on the margin of the paper he wrote just these two words—"Do it!"
The battle was over and won, and a fortnight later Tornay Mihály was one of the king's lieutenant-generals.
Matthias had by this time grown extremely fond of the young man. Michael was always so vigilantly on the alert, so blindly devoted to him, and so quick in his ways, that the king had no misgivings about any commission which he entrusted to him. It was certain to be done, and done well. But this was not all. He was pleased, too, with the young man's evident gratitude and nobility of character—though not as much surprised as some others, who fancied that such things were not to be looked for in a beggar lad; for the king could read faces, and he had long since made up his mind about Michael.